A couple of years ago, I wrote this little story about my son and wasn’t quite sure what it was. A prose poem? Micro creative nonfiction? I didn’t know. But I submitted it to a few journals anyway, and it never found a home, so it has been sitting, unshared, in my files ever since (alongside many other unpublished things, of course).
I’ve been thinking about how much of our creative work gets lost to time because we don’t know what it is, where it belongs, or what it’s for. So today I’m giving this one a home here.
Below the paywall is a very short story and a small prompt for your own creative writing. Upgrade for $8/mo ir $80/yr to unlock all paid content, join The Waning Garden, Falling Gently, and so many other perks.
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